Bath, Lotion, Story, Snuggles
by brennansboys
Summary: A routine night-in with the Booth family. Pure fluff.


**A fluffy one-shot that will hopefully help get you through the end of this hiatus... 2 weeks to go!**

Tapping his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel as the old school rock blares from the radio, Booth's thoughts turn away from the murder-suicide he and Aubrey had been working on all day and towards the night in with his family. Despite the queue of traffic ahead of him, his lips tick up in a smile just at the thought of his beautiful wife and their two amazing children. He can't wait to see them. He can't wait to play with Christine and Hank. He can't wait to wrap his arms around Brennan's slender figure and never let go.

He's suddenly startled by the honking of a horn and realises the traffic lights have turned green. He holds up a hand in apology to the annoyed drivers behind him and quickly passes through the lights.

His mind returns to his family and how blessed he feels to have them in his life. He never imagined he would be so lucky as to have a real, honest-to-goodness family life. His own childhood had been turbulent to say the least and, after having two (two!) proposals rejected, he really thought he'd missed his chance for this life. But thankfully his anger had faded away and Brennan had lost the last of her imperviousness and ever since they've lived happily together like those almost-annoyingly-perfect couples in the stories Christine reads before bedtime.

He turns right, then left again, and his home is only minutes away. Eager to be reunited with three of his favourite people (Parker - the fourth - is in London with Rebecca, with the fifth and sixth - Pops and Sweets - sadly no longer with them), he presses the gas pedal a little firmer. He sees their house - the Mighty Hut 2.0 - come into view and grins widely.

Booth pulls into the drive, cuts off the engine, and jumps out of his SUV. He can see the lights coming from the kitchen and living area, can practically hear Christine's singsong voice and the smell of Brennan cooking dinner. He jogs over to the front door, opens it, and is immediately enveloped in the feeling of home, family, _love_.

"Daddy!" Christine squeals, excitement evident in her tone and facial expression as she runs over to him and he scoops her up into his arms.

"Hi there, beautiful. Have you had a good day?"

"We did spellings today and I got _allll_ of them right!" She boasts, although Booth thinks she's totally entitled to. She's a little genius.

"Like mother, like daughter," he says proudly, carrying her over to the kitchen counter where Brennan is standing, Hank in her arms. "Hey, you two."

"How was work?" Brennan asks after they share a chaste kiss.

"Don't wanna talk about it," he mumbles, stealing a second kiss, and, yeah, he doesn't because it was really stressful and depressing and he has a ton of paperwork to return to in the morning, but, like, he just wants to spend time with his family - distraction free. "No shop talk at home, remember?"

"I remember. Is Mac n Cheese acceptable for dinner, Booth?"

"It's more than acceptable, Bones! You know your Mac n Cheese is, like, my favourite meal in the world. Ever."

She beams, loving his sweet compliments. "I am aware of how much you love this dish, that's why I'm making it. It's been a while..."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Bones," he responds, tickling Hank under the chin and making him giggle. "How much longer til it's ready?"

"Five minutes?" She estimates, noticing him loosening the knot of his tie. "You have time to get changed."

"Great." He ruffles Christine's hair on his way to their bedroom, smirking to himself at her frustrated sigh. He removes his tie before he's even in their room, his white dress shirt coming off next. Draping his clothes over the chair to deal with later, he pulls down his pants and slips into the more comfortable attire of a loose fitting t-shirt and his well-worn jeans. He watches through the window as Brennan cooks, chatting easily with their children as she does so. Wanting to join in on the conversation, he returns to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his wife and delighting in the vanilla scent of her hair. "God, I love you, Bones."

"I know you do," she says, smiling softly at him. "Just as I love you."

"I love you too," Christine pipes in, showing off the gap between her front teeth. "So does Hank. Right, Hank?"

The little boy grins happily and Booth takes that as a yes. He knows his son loves all of them, but he _especially_ loves Brennan. The kid is the definition of a mommy's boy, not that Booth can blame him.

"Christine, go and sit at the table please. Dinner's ready."

Booth helps her down from the counter and she skips over to the dining room table, while he carries Hank and seats him in his high chair. Once the little boy is settled, Booth sits in his own chair and watches as his wife plates up their dinner, looking exceptionally beautiful, even as she performs such a simple, domestic task like preparing their evening meal.

"Here you go," she says, suddenly by his side as she puts the plate in front of him and takes a seat on the other side of Hank. He must have gotten distracted by her and zoned out, something he is guilty of doing on an all too regular occasion.

"Thanks, Bones," he replies, spearing a piece of macaroni with his fork and popping it into his mouth. "God, that tastes good."

Brennan nods in agreement, taking another forkful of her own. "I have to admit, I think this is the best I've ever made. It is quite exquisite."

"Mmm. So what else did you do at school today, sweetheart?"

His daughter recites every detail of her day as they finish their meals and sit back in their chairs, full and satisfied.

"That meal was delicious, Bones," Booth says, grinning at his wife. "I love your mac and cheese."

"I know. You tell me every time I make it."

"Well I'm telling you again." He hears a yelp from the other side of the table and, tearing his eyes away from Brennan's pleased smile, he catches their son tipping the remainder of his food over himself. " _Hank_!"

"Boys," Christine comments, tutting her disapproval. "I would _never_ do anything that silly."

Brennan purses her lips to stifle the laughter threatening to escape - both at the sight of Hank wearing his dinner and at Christine on her high horse. She's pretty sure she has pictures of her daughter with food all over her somewhere. She was a messy baby and it's clear Hank has followed suit.

There are pieces of macaroni stuck in his hair, Brennan's creamy, cheesy sauce is dripping down his cheeks and he's even added some of his juice to the mix for good measure.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Booth says, standing from his seat and lifting his son into his arms. He holds him at a slight distance in an futile attempt to keep his clothes clean - Hank ends up putting his dirty hands all over him during the walk to the bathroom anyway.

Opening the door, he turns the faucet on immediately and warm water gushes into the tub. As it's filling up, he strips him off and throws his sullied clothes into the hamper.

"Hey, Booth," comes Brennan's familiar, comforting voice as she appears in the bathroom doorway. "Mind if we join you?"

"Of course not." In Booth's eyes, the more time she gets to spend with his favourite people, the better. And bathtime is always fun. "We're just waiting for the tub to fill."

"Great," she responds, kissing him as he stands beside her, both watching as Christine wraps her arms around her baby brother. "They're cute."

Booth glances down at her, a warm smile appearing on his face. She's right; they are _very_ cute. And so is Brennan. The way her expression softens as she helps Hank and Christine into the tub. The way she starts playing with the rubber ducks and laughing gleefully with their children. The way the oversized FBI t-shirt fits her body - the t-shirt that he's itching to remove as soon as their nighttime routine is complete and they can have some alone time.

He kneels next to the tub and scoops water into his hands, pouring it over Hank's hair. It's safe to say that the little monster is _still_ not a fan of water as he screams and squirms, creating a tidal wave that soaks Booth's top.

"I guess you'd better take that off," says Brennan flirtatiously, her eyes raking over her husband's body as he removes his t-shirt and reveals his toned abs.

"See something you like there, Bones?"

"Perhaps," she teases, shooting him a smile filled with promise. _Later_.

In the meantime, Booth manages to wash the macaroni and cheese out of Hank's hair, dodging the splashes he sends over the side of the bath. He lifts the now-clean little boy from the tub and wraps him in a fluffy blanket. He puts on a fresh diaper and applies Hank's baby lotion to his silky soft skin, then clothes him in a cute orange onesie with the Flyers logo all over. Christine is also out of the tub and dressed in her favourite purple pyjamas, ready for story time.

As usual, Christine insists on climbing into Hank's crib and reading one of his books to him, while Booth and Brennan watch on affectionately.

"Can you believe how well they get along, Bones?" Booth murmurs, awe in his voice. Everyone knows that sibling rivalry can occur when a new baby arrives, but Christine loves him. She thinks Hank is _her_ baby, not Booth and Brennan's.

"We are extremely fortunate that they have a good relationship. Perhaps when they grow up, they won't get on so well. I know Russ and I argued quite a bit."

"So did me and Jared. As adults too..." Booth trails off, images of Jared's corpse burning appearing in his mind. He still misses him. He wishes he could have done so much more, that Jared could have lived until he was 90. Just as that familiar, aching pain of grief rises within him, he feels a hand on his back, and he turns to look at his wife. Her face is filled with concern for him and he has to choke back a sob.

"I'm here for you, Booth," she reminds him supportively, her voice a quiet whisper so she doesn't disturb the children. "For whatever you need. Always."

"Thanks, Bones. I... I love you so much."

"Mommy? Daddy?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"Are you even listening to the story? We're about to get to the good part!"

Thoroughly chastised, Booth and Brennan move closer to Hank's crib and listen intently as Christine finishes reading, then closes the book.

"Right. Bedtime," Booth decides. "Give out kisses then I'll tuck you in."

"OK, daddy," Christine says with little argument, letting out a yawn. She lightly touches her lips to a sleeping Hank's forehead, then is lifted out of the crib by Brennan. She kisses her mom and scurries off towards her room.

Booth grins at his wife. "Do I get a kiss too?"

"That depends," she murmurs saucily, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you deserve one?"

"Definitely." Pressing his lips to hers, he pulls her closer and she tightens her hold on him. "I think I deserve multiple, in fact."

"Oh, really? Well, why don't you go tuck in our daughter and I'll meet you in our bedroom in a minute?"

"Sounds perfect, Bones." He steals one last kiss then follows his wife out of Hank's nursery, switching off the light as they leave. While Brennan heads for their room, he heads for Christine's, finding her already in bed, watching him expectantly.

"Tuck me in, daddy," she instructs.

So he does.

He ensures she's tucked in nicely with her favourite stuffed kitty in her arms and plants a kiss on her forehead as her eyelids droop. He gently strokes her hair, watching her for a moment. Then, remembering that his wife is waiting for him - hopefully naked - he pads out of his daughter's room and towards his own. Rubbing his hands together in eager excitement, he steps through the door and finds his wife under the covers, her eyes shut.

 _Damn it!_ He'd taken too long.

Stripping off his clothes so he's just in his favourite Captain America underwear, he climbs beneath the comforter, curling up behind his wife. She shifts closer to him and he circles his arms around her torso, nuzzling his face into her neck.

As much as he loves sex with his wife (and _boy_ , does he love that), this right here, snuggling up with her in _their_ bed in _their_ house after a long day of work is equally nice sometimes. And, as he drifts off to sleep after a routine, but incredible nonetheless, evening in with his little family, he can't help but thank God for Brennan and for everything she's given him.

 **If you enjoyed this, leave a review. I love reading all your responses; they make me so happy. :)**


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